Author Archives: Anthony De Benedict

About Anthony De Benedict

More about Anthony: https://www.aculpableinnocence.com/Bio.htm

Sandyhook Revisited

(This piece was written on 12/22/2012, shortly after the Sandy Hook shooting. Given the recent anniversary of that event, I thought it timely to publish that commentary at this time.)

For a while, the Sandy Hook tragedy seemed to motivate our political leaders to take action. Congress began to discuss laws that would ban assault weapons and high capacity magazines, require background checks on all gun sales (incl. gun shows & internet purchases), and enhance mental health provisioning. These were all practical things that could have and should have been done. But they still addressed only the symptoms of a more deeply rooted problem in society: individual alienation or the dissociation of an individual from his/her role in and responsibility for the community. It isn’t just one man pulling the trigger and snuffing out scores of innocents. Many of us are falling victims to many forms of violence from road rage to muggings and to innumerable acts of discrimination and injustice. The perpetrators are us, trapped in our egos without real connection to the world around us. I’ve been mulling over the roots of this disassociation for over a year now. Why do so many of us in the West need to be shaken out of our ego-inspired isolation? We aren’t doomed at birth. Children naturally reach out to a world they assume is an extension of them. At an early age they discover the separation of subject and object, the initial sense of ego. But, for many, the evolution of ego (the accumulated memory of our responses to the world and their faux determination of who we imagine ourselves to be) does not necessarily result in an exaggerated sense of separateness. My best guess at an answer is that we are failing as a culture to incorporate true awareness in the hearts and minds of many of our children. If they are allowed to grow into adulthood without that illuminating experience of real participation in the world around them, then they are already handicapped and impeded from a reasonably normal human life. So how do we give them this experience? Interestingly, I was asked this very question recently by a young woman. My answer (humble though it may be) was that she should begin a daily regimen of meditation – either single-point or general awareness. I think that children naturally meditate when not hurried into action by adults. I’ve seen wonderment in their eyes. Too often we squash this natural, ecstatic arrest by defining the indefinable. We remove the mystery. But I’ve grown to recognize that it is only the imponderable that is substantial. I think this understanding opens us to the world and to each other. For we stand as equals before a universal consciousness and bear a responsibility to ourselves AND to each other to move toward that light.

The slaughter of innocents is inhuman. It reminds us that our humanity cannot be taken for granted. There is no drug that can cure what ails a disconnected ego. Although prescription drugs may help some who suffer from brain defects or serious psychological disorders, they aren’t a remedy for the general sickness of disassociation we too often find in our culture. Our evolution from this disassociation (mens insana), I believe, will be the result of a mass awakening. But the inspiration for that kind of awakening requires a less self-centered awareness that embraces our connectedness to the universe and to each other. We need a transformed society that nurtures outliers before they become deviants. We are, after all, agents of a higher consciousness. And that consciousness sits at the threshold of understanding and love.

Of course, these few thoughts don’t assuage the pain of Sandy Hook. Words alone cannot transform us as individuals or as a society. But they can point the way to change and give us hope for a better tomorrow.

Poor Tom and the Echoes of Silence

Today I had to bundle up for my daily stroll, still eager to encounter what changes nature had prepared for me. The sparkle of summer has long since gone, and fall’s promise of winter haunts the cold air. Skeletal branches face the Artic draft stiff and leafless, and the mildly ruffled bay waters mirror a darkened sky. I walked alone to my favorite bayside spot, my self-proclaimed hidden cove, where I often keep lonely vigil. One day past I was greeted by a seal that suddenly broke the water’s surface and stared at me. Perhaps he was surprised to see a human so close to his natural habitat.

Two days ago, I was the one surprised to find another human near my little “cove.” He was sitting on a bench, reading a book, his bed roll and rucksack beside him. I had walked past him, not wanting to disturb his concentration. A few feet away, I stopped at the water’s edge. Looking across the bay at the dominant presence of Mt. Tamalpais, I was content to let the moment have its way with me. Then his words broke into my reverie, “What’s that you’re reading?” He had noticed the book I carried in my hand. And so we began a dialogue about many things—about books, world affairs, politics, and the state of America. His perspective was that of a homeless man, like an outsider peering through a crack in the wall. Given his point of view, the world seemed ruled by an evil force ruthlessly persistent in maintaining his estrangement from it. He blamed the Nazis for most everything. They were the evil force that explained it all. After about an hour, I was beginning to feel chilled and told him I had to leave. He rose and warmly shook my hand. It was only at that moment that I noticed his bare, sandal-clad feet. We parted on a first name basis. His name was Thomas, reminding me of his namesake in Shakespeare’s “King Lear.” In the words of Poor Tom, “Who alone suffers, suffers most in the mind.” But who am I to judge: I may be one of Thomas’ Nazis.

Yesterday, I returned to where I had met Thomas. As I approached the same bench, I noticed another man stretched across its full length. He was asleep. Most of his head was covered by a furry hood; his body, by a heavy parka; and his feet, by hiking boots. What caught my attention was the contentment that seemed to infuse his face in repose. Perhaps he was dreaming. If so, his subconscious was rewarding him with a tranquility rarely found in waking states. I remember walking away unable to shake his countenance from my mind. It made me wonder what places or experiences filled my dreams. Unless awakened while dreaming, I rarely remember “what dreams may come” out of my subconscious. If not in purgatory, maybe I frolic in Elysian Fields. But how can one know what passes unawares in slumber: I may be very like this dreamer in quiet repose.

Today I walked the same path and steered myself to the same bench. There was nothing there to arrest my attention or spur my imagination. So I walked on where the paved walkway becomes a dirt path bordering the water. Ahead I saw a man standing on a rock. He appeared from my vantage point to be levitating over the water, standing so precariously on the precipice of the rocky breakwater that holds back the bay. Drawing near, I quietly made to pass him when he turned his head and smiled at me. Without aforethought I said, “You’ve chosen a good vantage point.” He responded, “Yes, I have.” I made another innocuous remark and moved on, but the look on his face stayed with me. He had the same look of peace I saw on my dreamer the day before. But he was fully present and so totally connected that he seemed integral to the scene before him. As I reached the end of the path, I wondered about the nature of my connections. The only meaningful part of my encounter with “Poor Tom” was our warm handshake. The dreamer in repose showed me there was a state of consciousness in which one can find peace and contentment. But his was not a waking state. It offered nothing I could connect with. But the man on a rock was fully aware. His smile seemed to emanate from an inner serenity. The simplicity of his response offered no insight into his thoughts.

Turning around, I was determined to engage him in conversation. I walked quickly back to his vantage point until I could see clearly that he was no longer there. I stood before that same rock and weighed the whim that floated in my mind. Then I stepped onto the rock. It swayed a bit, for its base was not level on the ground beneath it. Momentarily I glanced at the rocks six or seven feet directly below the tips of my feet. Should I lose my balance, I would either have to step back off the rock or, falling forward, be compelled to push off clear of the rocks, diving for the safety of the water. I quickly refocused my wayward thoughts. As I looked out over the bay, my body calmed and steadied on its perch above the water. The ground beneath me seemed to fall away. I floated on the swell of the bay as the rising tide found its course between moon and earth. The air that gently brushed my face pushed the clouds ever so slowly along its northwesterly direction, bringing with it the promise of winter’s rain. I soared with the slow movement of those clouds. I hovered there, caught in the midst of countervailing forces, drawn into a limitless horizon, and lost to the benchmarks of time.

Was it the flash of eternity I felt or merely the presence of silence? Whatever it was, I know that many have shared my experience. These words are but the empty echoes of that silence.

11-22-1963

(This blog was written on the anniversary of Kennedy’s assassination, except for the last paragraph which I added today. Like everybody else who lived through that day, I remember the time, the place, and the moment’s impact. Putting that moment into perspective is a unique exercise for each of us. Though I may disagree with other perspectives, I respect them and offer my own, with due regard for my own limitations.)

“We can never reclaim our innocence. But can we reclaim our faith in government?” This was the question put by a TV pundit today, on the anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s death. Was she using hyperbole, making a statement of fact, or merely attempting a transition to the next segment?

Well, her words did serve as segue to her next storyline. But, more to the point, do they reflect history–did America lose its innocence on that fateful day of JFK’s assassination? Many serious analysts and historians have described it as “the day we lost our innocence,” especially in view of subsequent assassinations and the concurrent tragedies of the Vietnam War and the outbreak of racial violence. But I do not accept their thesis. How can a country hold itself innocent of the Dresden and Tokyo fire-bombing or of the obliteration of two urban civilian centers by means of atomic bombs? Even the commanders of our final assault on the Japanese mainland feared that they would be subject to war crimes. Their self-admission was not that of innocents. Certainly it’s true that America was drawn into the two World Wars and was not an instigator in either. At the same time, there are no innocents in war. We Americans obliterated our enemies willfully and with “malice aforethought.” One of the ambiguities of war is this issue of culpability. A “just” war, a “defensive” war, or a war of “liberation” is how we cover the horror of war and escape the guilt for what we feel impelled to do in war’s behalf. Our supposed “innocence” is just a way of dealing with culpability. It was not innocence we lost with Kennedy’s assassination. The culpable can never lose their innocence, just the illusion of innocence.

Did we lose faith in our government on that fateful day 50 years ago? My parents, having lived through the Great Depression and World War II, certainly believed that government could deliver us from economic disaster and from foreign threats. The Phoenix-like emergence of America after the war held great promise for all Americans. People were getting college degrees, building new lives, buying homes, and raising families with the expectation that the next generation would benefit even more. We believed in ourselves and our ability to overcome anything: we were invulnerable. But, at the same time, children were diving under their school desks in monthly bomb drills, Senator McCarthy was conducting communist witch hunts in Congress, and our military was actively preparing for World War III. Behind the illusion of peace and prosperity was the reality of fear. The President’s assassination shattered this illusion. The President who almost single-handedly saved us from a nuclear holocaust was killed by a lone gunman. Americans sat in their living rooms and witnessed his gruesome murder and the horrific image of his beautiful wife bespattered with his blood. These were not the images of Camelot, but of a nightmare: we were confronted with our vulnerability. If our President could be gunned down before our eyes, perhaps our invincibility could be in doubt and our faith in the government’s ability to protect us might be shaken. Fear, after all, is contagious.

Life in the 20th century should have given rise to fear. When in history have more of us been slaughtered by our brothers and sisters in humanity? The temptation to withdraw into a cocoon of material comforts and consumerism is too enticing. Likewise, it’s too easy to play into the hands of politicians who promise to secure our material well-being and protect us from all harm in exchange for electing them. On the other hand, the 1960s did give rise to landmark social legislation, demonstrating our government’s ability to provide for the “general welfare” promised in our Constitution. Our current disaffection with Washington politics has not always been the case. Perhaps the problem is not with our faith in government, but with those who govern. That problem is on us, the electorate.

As Americans, we need to face our fears and accept responsibility for the way things are. We did not lose our innocence or our faith in government on that fateful day 50 years ago. But we did receive a wake-up call. The American dream is in fact a dream. It is up to us to define it and make it a reality. John F. Kennedy spoke of a “new frontier” and challenged us to consider what “you can do for your country.” His death was never about loss of innocence or of faith in government, but about the challenge his death left unfulfilled in his personal life—a challenge that still rests on each of us to fulfill.

ACA: Affordable or Not?

What the President could have and perhaps should have said: “you can keep you plan,” if you have employer/government sponsored health insurance (80-83% of the populace) OR if you have an individual policy that will be automatically grandfathered after ACA is implemented in March, 2010 (another 5% of the populace), PROVIDED your individual policy is not subsequently terminated by your insurance company. The remaining 12-15% of the populace will have the opportunity to buy affordable healthcare insurance through government run exchanges. Depending upon income, many of these exchange shoppers will qualify for government subsidies.

The current debate centers on those grandfathered individual plans. What happens if the insurance company cancels one of these grandfathered plans? Well, it has to offer a new plan that meets the ACA criteria (a minimum of 10 new health care benefits) AND the requirements of its respective state. These new plans may have higher rates (1) because they would have higher rates regardless of ACA depending upon circumstances in the respective state, (2) because they are tiered to match policies in the Exchange (which is not an ACA requirement though perhaps a predictable convenience), (3) because they must now meet the new requirements (e.g., maternity care or prescription drug coverage), (4) because medical history can no longer be used to determine rates (people with healthy medical histories will pay more so that others with unhealthy records can pay less). Some in the press have identified state ordered policy terminations with these grandfathered plans. But, at least in California, these terminations targetted non-grandfathered plans that were not compliant with ACA. Regardless, whether the state or the insurance company terminates a plan, the conditions for replacement are essentially the same.

Potential impacts for these new individual plans may include higher premiums and higher deductibles, though out-of-pocket annual expense is limited to $6350.00. Also, some insurance companies may change from PPO (preferred provider organization) to EPO (exclusive provider organization), forcing a potential change in doctors. On the plus side, many with terminated individual plans will find cheaper plans on the exchanges than what is offered by their current insurance company. Also, they may qualify for subsidies. Best guess is that most of these people had individual plans because they were unemployed or because they worked for small businesses that could not afford the premiums. Likely, many of these people will qualify for subsidies. There may also be some very rich people in the individual insurance plan market. Remember the richest 1% (who control 40% of the nation’s wealth) don’t necessarily work for a living. Like the recent Republican candidate for President, their income comes from securities in which case an individual insurance plan with low cost premiums and high deductibles may appear as a bargain for somebody in these circumstances with reasonably good health.

The bottom line is that there are too many variables in the implementation of ACA that must be worked through before any definitive statement on its success or failure can be made. Much of the rumble on cable TV and the distortions emanating from Washington polities are merely self-serving garble. We are at the beginning of a sea-change in America’s health care provisioning system. It’s going to take years to fully stabilize and hone this system, much as it did with Medicare.

True Immortality

Schopenhauer once said that his life read like a novel written by a single author. I hope he found that novel written with meaning and purpose. Otherwise, it would represent the vicarious societal survival schemes that represent the normal conditioning state into which all of us are born. Schopenhauer did well if he created his own life’s narrative both in terms of his authenticity and the legacy he left behind. But today my interest looks beyond this myopic view of an author-ego’s short life story. Socrates, for example, could face his death sentence with equanimity because he believed in an immortal soul—an entity no mortal could create for himself. Plato, one of his pupils, saw the world, including everything in it, as mere reflections of ideas or perfect forms existing in the pure light of consciousness outside of the shadow existence we experience. Kant recognized an imperative that guided our moral evolution with a transcendent inevitability beyond our personal reckoning. And even the existentialist saw our existence floating like an island on a sea of nothingness. Their nearsightedness did not grant them the wisdom to understand that “nothingness” was merely “no-thingness.” For the sea that supports us in existence truly is no thing and cannot be named: “I am who am,” explained Moses’ God. What we do name are first the things we touch, see, hear, smell and taste, and second, the things we never truly understand, the world of metaphors, including the infinitely unknowable and “un-name-able.” Language cannot encompass the concept of “god.” Even our quantum physics fails to pin down the tiniest particles of matter with certainty, for only the probability of their appearance in the material world is predicted by quantum mechanics. Our physicists, you see, have raised the specter of a non-material dimension—of transcendent potentia–beyond the pale of our limited imaginings. For many centuries now we have identified this as the “god-dimension” or simply as God where reside all things possible. We invariably acknowledge an underlying ground of our being and an all pervasive consciousness at the core of our humanity, haunting our dreams, inspiring our insights, and motivating our more selfless inclinations. Quantum energy is not just a fundamental force of nature but the conscious force of everything and, possibly, the very face of God.

Many contemporary physicists and purveyors of the so-called perennial philosophy have told us our mortal lives are the ongoing reflection of a consciousness that exists outside of time and space. In this context, we are already immortal, though not in the storylines of a script written by our egos during their short lifetimes. Instead, we foreshadow in our very being what transcends all we know and everything that is. Our immortality reveals itself in the ecstatic arrest of wonder, in the flash of intuition, in the gravitational pull of selfless love, and in that moment of dazzling revelation when the clouds finally part. As William Blake once wrote, “If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: infinite.” Our personal lives are just the flickering manifestations of the divine. Acceptance of that fact weaves each individual’s personal story into the fabric of our species’ evolution. And that evolution is a growing awareness of who we are and wherein we find true immortality. Remember “The kingdom of God comes unawares . . . For behold, the kingdom of God is within you (Luke 17:20-21).”

Soulfulness

(This is a re-post of a previously published page on 8/28/2013)

August 28, 1963 and the march on Washington, where was I then? I don’t even remember hearing Martin Luther King’s speech when it was delivered. Did I miss the broadcast? Or was I too involved with preparations for my junior year of college to notice? I remember being intimidated by the course of study facing me in my chosen major. The subsequent two years would be consumed with the Greek philosophers and their successors in modern times from Descartes and Kant to the existentialists. My brain would be tasked as well by the syllogisms of Thomas Aquinas and the theological contemplations of Thomas Merton, men truly mindful and lofty of soul. But was my mind grounded by exposure to ideas that seemed as expansive as galaxies flying apart? Upon my eventual graduation from college, I toured Europe with my favorite aunt, a beautiful woman only 14 years older than myself and far wiser. During that time together, she began the process of deconstructing everything I thought I had learned. After that jolting experience, I returned home less sure of the academic template I assumed would guide me in the world. And then I met a sweet and charming young black woman who slammed the last bolt in my coffin of lifeless ideas. She startled me with her half-playful remark, “What you lack is soul.”

Listening to Dr. King’s most famous speech today reminded me of what we have all gained in the last 50 years. At that time, he urged non-blacks to view his people differently, recognizing that “their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom” and “their destiny is part of our destiny.” Referring to his people, he called them “veterans of creative suffering” and the black man, “an exile in his own land.” He wasn’t Moses leading his tribe to the Promised Land somewhere else. Most blacks have more tenure on this continent than any other group, except for Native Americans. But they did not come here by choice, but in chains. Their suffering under those conditions could be called “creative” in the sense that it brought forth the dignity of their human spirit and its capability to rise above pain and oppression—what came to be called “soul.” Today, we now call black people African-Americans; for they did indeed bring something from Africa very integral to contemporary America. We have all benefited not only from their excellence in the arts and athletics, but also in the awakening they affected in the conscience of all Americans. The President referred to the “coalition of conscience,” and rightly so. With the slaves’ freedom came the beginning of freedom for the persecutor from the dehumanizing bondage to injustice. The march on Washington 50 years ago helped extend our moral boundaries along a new trajectory that would eventually include peoples of all colors, race, gender and sexual orientation. That trajectory is our new shared destiny. When Dr. King spoke of brotherhood and non-violent change, he was motivated by compassion and the spiritual impetus of an oppressed but soulful people. Like all suppressed groups through history, blacks could either unite around vindicated rage or pull together in goodwill to oppose injustice with courage and faith in the goodness of their fellow human beings. Truly, it wasn’t just “soul” music that African-Americans brought to all Americans, but a new collective consciousness.

Two women rescued me from the literate idiocy of purposeless ideas. The younger woman, a passionate African-American, touched my heart with her own and seeded it with compassion. What we have all gained from the “veterans of creative suffering” is a renewed awareness of the brotherhood and sisterhood we all share—our common soulfulness.

What Does Evolution Require of Us?

In the last two hundred years, the character of our evolution has been affected by acceleration in the rate of change and the very context of our lives. Will the pace of this change spiral us forward into chaos? The industrial revolution consistently doubled our supply of energy every so many years. The transistor’s capacity also doubled in even less time. Our communication networks have merged into an interconnected net allowing worldwide access to devices as small as personal iPhones or as large as super computers. But, at the same time, our technological advances have impacted our biological evolution in ways that we are just beginning to understand. There are hydrocarbons in the air we breathe; chemical toxins in the food we eat; and microwaves bombarding every cell in our body. The biosphere upon which all life depends is stressed by the onslaught of global warming, the desalination of our oceans, the pollution of our inland water ways, and the depletion of arable land. When Darwin first raised the issue of evolution, he was solely focused upon biological evolution. His thesis of natural selection–i.e., the survival of those best adapted to environmental conditions–could not predict the environment we humans have helped create by the 21st century. In fact, his theory of adapted evolution, we now know, cannot fully explain the evolution of Homo sapiens—modern probability/statistical analysis and the fossil gaps in our evolutionary record have qualified its central thesis. There is more than “survival of the fittest” involved in our evolution if we humans do indeed change the context of that evolution. In fact, we are in some measure agents of that evolution. So what can we do with this awesome power to control our species’ destiny?

First, I think we have to relook at the discontinuity in our development and evaluate its impact upon our evolution. Obviously, a full evaluation of this matter would involve volumes. So forgive me for abbreviating this history with just a few examples. (Though “brevity may be the soul of wit,” in this case it is an excuse for both the limitations of this medium and of the author.) Let’s begin with the introduction of new meaning into the lives of our ancestors. What was the impact of the discovery of fire, the heliocentric solar system, the new calculus, the atom, the genetic structure of living organisms, quantum physics, and so on? Did not these discoveries change perspective and require new adaptations to our environment? To continue, how did our feelings evolve and impact our development when affected by Gregorian chant, Beethoven, Bach, Michelangelo, Rafael, Picasso, Blake, Wordsworth, Shakespeare, Joyce, and so on? And, finally, what new insight was introduced into our value system by the contributions of Jesus Christ, Guatama Buddha, Mohammed, and more recently, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa, and Mandela? Certainly, our values affect the goals we seek and the very nature of our interface with our environment. My point is simple: our evolution as a species has a mental, emotional, and spiritual dimension that is interwoven with the physical and genetic. In fact, our development has had many discontinuous leaps forward, unexplained by random genetic mutations and natural selection, but wholly consistent with the serendipitous breakthroughs of new insight, the collective surge of new sentiments, or the unexpected expansion of our moral boundaries. These advancements of the more subtle parts of the human psyche have transformed the nature and the context of our lives—both our custodianship of and adaptation to the environment. In other words, we transform ourselves and the world in a circular causal feedback loop.

Secondly, I feel we have to reevaluate the role of this personal transformation. Whereas Descartes and Newton triggered the Age of Enlightenment, Hitler invoked our potential for depravity and brutality. For most of us, our individual lifespan will not be writ on such a large stage. Yet the people in our history books lived personal lives not dissimilar to ours. Our achievements and failures affect the lives of those around us just the same. History consistently tells us that innovation and the most significant, lasting changes come from the likes of any one of us. What makes some individuals purveyors of positive transformations and others, of negative regressions in human development? Newton allegedly intuited the force of gravity when an apple fell from a tree. Gandhi, a lawyer for the downtrodden, became overwhelmed by the injustice suffered by Indians at the hands of a colonial power. Both men passionately pursued their insights, transformed themselves, and contributed to their posterity. Neither sought personal gain or power over others. They, like all men and women so inspired, recognized that the fruit of their short lifespans cannot be seized solely for themselves, but mainly for those who followed after them. Our individual success persists only for those who succeed us. Coincidently, wise men and women through the ages have told us this simple truth. It remains for each of us to apply it to our personal lives. Human evolution depends upon our individual transformation in mind, in feeling, and in values. Otherwise, nothing worthy of our short time on this planet will be left for future generations; and our personal lives will lack both passion and purpose.

Politicians are One-eyed Cats

What did we learn from the recent government shutdown and debt ceiling fiasco? Well, the world does indeed seem different when seen through just one eye, whether one covers the right or left eye. It is more than depth perception that is sacrificed. What is lost is any relation to the world as it really is. Like one-eyed cats, our politicians seem to walk into walls, whether on their left or right, depending upon which eye they choose to cover. To some extent, cable news practiced the same single vision one-sidedness, deliberately distorting or taking quotes out of context to favor one perspective over another.

Personally, I thought my sanity was under attack, until I saw a license plate frame the other day with the following inscription: “Inner Peace” (above the plate) and “World Peace” (below). On the plate itself was an abbreviation of the car owner’s name. I wanted to contact and thank him or her for reminding me wherein to find peace of mind. Simply accepting a world of opposites is the best prescription for a dissembled mind. Oddly, conflicts can lead to lasting resolutions, but only when they are seen for what they are: diverse perspectives on the same reality. This more comprehensive view works not only for the individual, but for groups, communities, states, and even the world. Yes, if we could multiply inner peace by the number of people on this planet, we would likely attain world peace–though I would settle for a working Congress. After weeks of government shutdown and debt ceiling mania, our political parties finally put down their “talking points” and called an armistice without gaining any advantage for one side or the other. More importantly, for those of us who watched the cat fight, nothing worthwhile was gained, and no vital issues were resolved. As the President said—and the Speaker of the House agreed—there were no winners or losers. The country would have benefited more if Congress had simply extended its “vacation” through October.

It’s true: one-eyed cats tend to walk into walls.

Socialism versus Social Justice

My son-in-law shared a link with me today that reminded me how “talking points,” “catch phrases,” and “labels” have distorted the meaning of words. For example, “second amendment rights,” “third rail of politics,” and “socialism” are terms that elicit emotions at variance with their meaning. Let’s examine these terms closer. The right to bear arms is stated in the Constitution as a means for citizens to form a “well-regulated Militia” to secure the freedom of the state. It does not necessarily address the right of citizens to own high powered weapons of modern warfare or to bear them in public places such as schools and churches. Likewise, Social Security is not so sacrosanct that it can never be changed. In fact, it has been revised and modified a number of times since Roosevelt established it. And then there is the defamatory use of the word “socialism.” As an economic or political theory socialism advocates, according to Webster, the “collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means of production and distribution of goods.” Certainly, that definition would satisfy Carl Marx and reflects the system of government that was attempted and largely failed in Russia. However, it in no way reflects the various social legislations passed by Congress in order to improve the conditions and opportunities of Americans rather than to own the fruits of their labor. In a capitalist system, the main threat to this ownership is not government but the concentration of capital and power in the hands of a few. The term for such a dismal outcome is an “oligarchy.” James Madison so feared that threat that he devised the so-called “American System” to advance a partnership between the merchant class and the government. He felt that a rising business class would never overthrow a democratic system that benefited them. I think his concept of partnership has served us well for most of our history . . . until now. When 40% of the wealth of our nation falls under the control of a few, however, one must question whether the fruits of labor are being shared fairly. When a few have the capacity to fund political campaigns and lobbys out-of-proportion to their limited numbers, one must question whether their influence out-weighs the will of the majority. In other words, it is not socialism that we should fear in America, but a growing deficit of social justice. The following link may cause you to take notice.
Socialism vs. Social Justice

A Tale of Two Fallacies

The first fallacy in my tale is that government’s role in assuring fairness and the general welfare, including the marketplace, is paramount to socialism and inimical to a capitalist, free-market system. The second fallacy is that a free democratic system of government can be governed by unrestricted debate within the halls of Congress.

The concept that fairness and the general welfare are solely the private concerns and responsibility of individual citizens is disavowed in the preamble to the Constitution. Our system of government was founded on the principle that justice and the general welfare are among the primary goals of governance. When in the late nineteenth century the great barons of the industrial age seemed to monopolize national wealth, a Republican president worked with Congress to pass the Sherman Anti-trust Act. When the banks over extended themselves and floundered in the market crash of 1929, a Democratic president met with business leaders to promote a constructive turnaround in the market. But his efforts to legalize this initiative were declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court and were considered “socialistic” by his opponents. So, having learned his lesson in constitutional law, he instead used the federal government to create the social mechanisms that helped relieve the pain of depression era citizens and promote the general welfare. Of course, many of President Roosevelt’s initiatives are still with us today. In fact, subsequent Congresses have enacted many laws in the same genre of social legislation—from the G.I Bill to the Social Security Act of 1962 to Medicare/Medicaid and, more recently, the Affordable Care Act. At the same time, Congress has restricted social legislature it considered non-productive, as in the welfare reform of the 1990s, and in various efforts to limit regulatory control that seemed to impede free markets. All these legislative acts were performed in the name of fairness and the general welfare of Americans, including their businesses. To deny this governing philosophy is to invalidate the American system of government and to revise our civic history. Of course, there will always be arguments around what best promotes the general welfare. Those debates have resounded on the floor of Congress from the very beginning of our constitutional system. But never have our elected officials denied their responsibility to govern by these principles, until now.

The second fallacy is the efficacy of unlimited Congressional debates. The only efficacy that can be associated with legislative debate is the commitment of its participants to compromise. Debating in essence is a zero sum game. It ends in total victory for one side and complete dismissal of the other. Usually, the debates we witness in Congress are hyperbole-driven arguments designed to advance a position while discrediting an opponent’s. Wise legislators are supposed to sort out the kernel from the shaft on either side and find that common ground where compromise resides. The final resolution to this process rests in the vote where the will of the majority rules. Democracy demands a vote and acceptance of the will of the majority. During the constitutional convention, for example, the issue of slavery was debated, but no resolution could be found. The words “slavery” and “slave” do not even appear in our Constitution. The clauses referring to “three-fifths of all persons” and any “person held to service or labour” were artful dodges of a reality that simply could not be broached. The southern states could neither abide the loss of their financial and cultural system nor face what might potentially become a vengeful slave rebellion. Without a compromise, the debate gradually became more rancorous over the seceding years, until the only resolution possible was raised to an existential threat. Although there is no doubt that President Lincoln was an abolitionist, he dearly wanted to preserve the union and the very crux of our Constitution (“We the people . . . in order to form a more perfect Union”). With the admission of new states to the union, the issue of slavery in these new states gave birth to various Solomon-like compromises successfully debated by the likes of Henry Clay and Daniel Webster. But the South viewed these sham compromises as forced concessions and in the words of John C. Calhoun, the South no longer had any “compromise to offer . . . and no concession . . . to make.” The lack of compromise and refusal to accept the will of the majority states eventually led to secession and the Civil War.

Currently, our Congress is divided on the issue of health care. Obviously, there is no proportionality between health care reform and slavery or between a government/economic shutdown and civil war. But the language and dire threats of the current debate do bear a resemblance to what transpired over 150 years ago. An elected majority in both houses of the Congress voted and passed the Affordable Care Act nearly four years ago. The Republican minority fiercely objected at the time and, during the intervening years, has gained a majority voice in the House where it has voted repetitively for the repeal of this law. Republicans seem absolutely convinced that this law will wreak great havoc on Americans and have threatened to shut down the government and even the economy as a result of this conviction. They will debate, but will not compromise. They refuse to accept or concede to the will of an elected majority. And they advance an existential threat to the government and to the American economy in support of their conviction.

The question I have to ask is how does the Affordable Care Act merit such fierce opposition? Is it not the role of the government to address the inadequacies in our health care system? And why can’t the Republicans accept a law duly passed by Congress, signed by the President, and vetted by the Supreme Court? With their majority in the House, they still have the power to correct any flaws in this law. After all, both Democrats and Republicans have started from a common base: Republican concepts of a universal mandate and private insurance exchanges. The Democrats gave up on their public option almost immediately in an effort to win bipartisan support. Do not both parties have an interest in correcting any inefficiencies or unintended consequences that may arise in this law’s implementation? It seems to me that Congress has been held hostage by the fallacy that government has no role to play in promoting the general welfare of its citizens—which happens to include their physical health. In addition, Congress has been subjected to the fallacy that endless debate should brook any compromise or acceptance of majority rule. In the midst of this turmoil, neither side in this never-ending debate shows any regard for our system of government. One side admits the need to compromise without advancing any concession to the need to begin negotiations. The other side only desires a “conversation” without acknowledging any desire to compromise. In neither position is there any room for real dialogue.

The only factor that can change this self-destructive dynamic is the electorate. My tale of two fallacies cannot be the tail that wags the fortunes of our country into dysfunctional chaos.